Hero Gets the Girl
by swim0angel0belle
Summary: Ron reflects on heroes. Summary is boring, but story is good, please read and review! RonHermione pairing, Ron's POV, some DH spoilers.


Disclaimer: I am not JKR and I do not own Harry Potter. Honestly, even if I did claim to own it, who would be dumb enough to believe me? 

A/N: This is a one shot I've been meaning to write for awhile. It is from Ron's POV, mostly just missing moments from the 7th book, so there are spoilers! There is one fourth year moment at the beginning. Ron/Hermione pairing, of course! I'm really proud of this little fic, it's the longest one shot, and the best in my opinion, that I've ever written! It's going to be the first in a series of one shots I'm calling "The Hero Series", about the many, many, many heroes in Harry Potter. Please read and review!!!

RWHGRWHGRWHG

(End of 4th year)

She kissed him. She bloody well kissed him. Yeah, it was only on the cheek, but it's not like she'd done anything of the sort to you. No, he was the one who'd faced the dark wizard, he was the one who'd survived all three dangerous tasks of the tournament. You had just stood on the sidelines. He's the hero. He gets the girl. That's the way it's always been, and you don't suppose it's going to change this time. You don't even know how exactly you feel about her, but it doesn't matter, because whether you fancy her or not, she's going to be his. Because the hero gets the girl.

RWHGRWHGRWHG

(7th year, after Ron walks out)

She chose him. You'd given her the choice, and she'd chosen to stay with him. And to think, after everything you'd done to win her over! You thought you had a chance, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be with her. But no, he was the hero. He was the "Chosen One", the "Boy Who Lived." What're you? The sidekick. Just the sidekick. Who would choose you over the great Harry Potter? He was the brave one, the noble one. You're just an immature git who says the wrong thing at the wrong time, and who just walked out on his best friends. Why, why did you have to do that? Why did you have to get your hopes up? Now you've left them, the best friends you've ever had. You should have known: it never mattered that you love her, the whole matter was written in stone the day the three of you met at Hogwarts. Because the hero gets the girl.

RWHGRWHGRWHG

(7th year, at Shell Cottage)

She'd almost died. She would have, had Fenrir gotten his way. Her screams are still fresh in your head, torturing you. What if she had died? What if you had never told her? Does it even matter whether you tell her or not? Sure, Harry had denied it, but that didn't change the fact that he was the hero, and you were the sidekick. The sidekick doesn't get the girl. And even if she wasn't in love with him, she'd still end up with a hero, and if there's one thing you know for sure, you are anything but a hero. You are a pathetic sidekick, so insecure you ran out on your best friends when they needed you most. Why did you run out? Because you were too thick to realize that the girl you love doesn't want you. She wants a hero, a protector, someone brave, noble, loyal, perfect. You are none of those things. The hero gets the girl.

"Ron?"

A quiet voice interrupts your thoughts. You blush, realizing you were just thinking of her. You try to hide your embarrassment as you smile at her in greeting and gesture for her to sit down. She looks still shaky on her feet.

You are quiet for awhile. She is too. You gaze into the fire, thinking of her, how perfect she is, how you almost lost her. You feel her eyes on you. You know she is trying to read your thoughts, but luckily it is unlikely she can practice Legillimency.

After a few moments, you hear two things: a strangled sob, and footsteps. Next you feel two skinny arms squeeze you tightly. You manage to loosen them, but then stand up and turn around in order to embrace her properly. You feel stinging in your eyes; tears are threatening to come out. No. They can't. She can't know. You can't let her know how pathetic you are.

But you can hardly believe she's still here, alright and in your arms, after all that's happened. You don't deserve it. You are a prat. You've made her cry many times, and you know it. More reason she will never be yours.

"I'm sorry," you murmur to her. She pulls back a bit and looks at you questioningly.

"For what?"

You take a deep breath, wanting to word something correctly for once in your life. "For everything. Being a prat. Not being good enough. Everything I've ever done, really."

She frowns at you. "What makes you think you aren't good enough, Ron?"

"Don't pretend, Hermione. We both know I'm nothing compared to the 'great' Harry Potter," you answer her bitterly as you pull away, unable to face those eyes any longer.

She is quiet awhile. She isn't denying it. She knows it too, just as you do: you will never be as good as him. It's about time you both admit it.

Then, she comes up behind you. "Ron." She speaks firmly, in the same bossy and in charge tone you have come to love throughout the years, though her voice has a shaky quality to it. It is as if she is holding back tears. As you turn around to face her, your suspicion is confirmed.

"You are every bit as good as Harry is." Her words are almost harsh and angry. It is as if she is mad at you for stating the truth.

"No, I'm not."

"YES! You are!" She is almost shouting now. The look in her tear filled eyes is so fierce, you cannot find the nerve to reply. So, she continues: "Was it Harry that belched up slugs for me when we were twelve? Was it Harry that held my hand when I couldn't sleep, that night on Grimmauld Place? No, Ron. It was YOU. You are every bit as great is he is, if not more so!"

You still aren't sure if you can believe her, but her words do soothe you to an extent. She believes you are worth something, even though you do not. You take her in your arms and hold her tight. This way, she won't be able to see that her eyes are not the only wet ones in the room.

But you know in the back of your head that in the end, even this conversation won't matter. She will forget everything she said tonight. Because the hero gets the girl.

RWHGRWHGRWHG

(7th year, springtime, Battle of Hogwarts, in the Chamber of Secrets)

Even sidekicks get their chance in the spotlight. This time, you were the one who came up with the plan. This time, you've saved the day. You were the one who thought of the Chamber, and all the basilisk fangs that lay inside. Not him, but you. And now you find yourself walking back up to the entrance in the company of the girl you love, both of you holding dozens of fangs on your arms. She is beaming at you, praising you for your intelligence, your cleverness, your brilliance. Telling you how amazing and wonderful you've just been. You are proud she thinks so highly of you, but nevertheless there is a voice speaking from the back of your mind: it's only for a moment. This adoration won't last. It can't; you're not a hero. So you've had a bright moment, but by this time tomorrow he will be the one adored, and you will be the sidekick again. Why did you need to have these thoughts? Why can't you just be happy? Because, the voice says, it's the truth. He is the hero. You are the sidekick. That's the way it will always be.

"But Ron, this was so brilliant!" she gushes for the thousandth time.

"Thanks, Hermione," you acknowledge her again. But this time, you add five words under your breath: "But I'm still no Harry."

"What was that?" She asks as you retrieve the broomstick you brought with in order to exit the Chamber.

You hesitate, but repeat four of your words. However, you change your last: "But I'm still no hero."

She stops walking and looks at you, gazing into your eyes. You can't bear look at her, but some sort of magic you've never studied refuses to let you break the eye contact. She addresses you much in the same way she did just a few weeks before, but this time her voice is a bit gentler. "You are, Ron. No one else thought of the Chamber!" Then, in a very matter of fact voice that you have come to expect from her, she adds: "And besides, you're the only person I recall burping up slugs for me." You feel yourself smile and blush slightly at the memory. She smiles too, then kisses you briefly on the cheek. You feel your smile widen to what you know to be a foolish grin as you bring your hand to the place where her lips touched.

"Now, let's go find Harry."

Him again. Of course. But at least you know she thinks you're a hero, not just the clumsy sidekick. But as the two of you each mount the broom, you in front, you hear the blasted voice in the back of your mind again: who says she was telling the truth? Maybe she was just lying, trying to make you feel better about yourself. There is a battle inside your head: you want to believe her, but you just don't know... She kissed you, that must mean something! She kissed Harry too...the voice responds. You realize you are ready to scream from the conflict in your head: why can't you just be happy when she pays you a compliment? And of course, it's the pesky little voice that answers your question: because the hero gets the girl.

RWHGRWHGRWHG

(7th year, springtime, battle of Hogwarts, Room of Requirement)

She's kissing you. She is actually kissing you. On the mouth. And it feels bloody amazing. All the emotion you feel for her at this one moment in time is drowning the voice. You have no doubt now, all you know is blissful oblivion to everything, complete perfection...

"OI! There's a war going on here!"

And there it goes. He had to interrupt you, of course. But then again, he did have a point...

"I know mate, so it's now or never, isn't it?" Your arms are still wrapped around her, you're wishing you could just go back to that peaceful moment...

But you can't. He is right, after all: the three of you are in a war zone. So you begin to collect the basilisk fangs, getting ready to fight the inevitable battle that lay ahead. But no matter what was to happen in the next few hours, you knew you'd be okay. Voldemort and the Death Eaters may be ten times more powerful than you, but you had something worth fighting for. In fact, it was two words that kept you fighting that entire long night. Two words that she whispered in your ear as the two of you followed him out the door: "my hero."

And years later, when you would ask her why it was she was with a guy who could be so insensitive as you could be, she would answer: "Because the hero gets the girl."


End file.
